


Blood and Thunder (and Static in the Air)

by Angelwire



Series: From Artifice [1]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén
Genre: Action, Banter, Flirting, Gen, Identity Reveal, Nonbinary Character, Trans Female Character, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-10 04:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelwire/pseuds/Angelwire
Summary: Charge and Anathema have been making you feel at home, relatively speaking; running with the Rangers is almost becoming comfortable now. Routine.So of course someone has to show up and disrupt that routine.
Series: From Artifice [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1499456
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

"Come on, his escape route's over here!" you say just a bit too loudly. Adrenaline still getting to you.

Inside, you can barely make out the sounds of Charge's assault, electrical discharges and reckless, overly destructive combat. You hope she's not getting too into it; you need Slipstream's escape route cut off before Charge drives him out of the building entirely. With Anathema at your side, you're confident in being able to pin him down. Especially given what scraps of a plan you were able to pick up from his mind during the first encounter outside the bank. He has a vehicle prepared for this leg of the heist, and you don't intend to keep it as an unmelted solid for much longer.

"Is that it?" Anathema's voice asks you as you both round the bend, eyeing a nondescript blue van parked at the perfect angle to allow quick access from the emergency exit to your right.

"Yeah, and it's got one of Tech Head's auto-drivers up front!" you reply. "Get the tires first!"

You turn your attention to the building again, picking up flashes of worry from the only mind you can still read in there. Good, all the civilians already got out. Slipstream's not the mass murdering type, so it was obvious having the Rangers on his tail would be much more of a priority than anything else. Apparently he'd been hiring Tech Head's services recently, too. That guy was causing way too much trouble for you already, and he'd not even shown his face publicly yet. You wouldn't even know his name or handiwork if not for the contacts you'd asked, back when these gadgets first started popping up. Eliminating the need for hiring a getaway driver that can be intimidated or arrested was the absolute least of his accomplishments. If Slipstream was robbing places to fuel more purchases like that (and thus funneling money right to Tech Head), it was important you put a stop to it immediately.

"Anathema! Incoming!"

She turns to you, pausing. The van was already half a bubbling wreck - no one would be getting away in that, much less getting in it at all - so she simply nods and takes up a position opposite you, flanking the emergency exit you could sense Slipstream gunning for. Charge was a bit too far behind to help now; she couldn't keep up with him when he wanted to escape, but she didn't need to now.

Because he was all yours.

Slipstream bursts out the door, overstuffed suitcase in hand, and the sight he's greeted by gives him brief pause. Brief, because his growing panic is far stronger than the dismay of being intercepted. It's no surprise that he makes the snap decision to go for you, hoping to slip past the relatively fresh vigilante who also _didn't_ have terrifying acid powers and invincibility. Funny how that works. If Slipstream had tried to go past Anathema, you're not sure whether she could have caught him. Funny how they always underestimate you to their own downfall.

You can read his mind like an open book, how he's planning a feint to slip past you with a burst of air that he's hoping will disorient you. At the last second, you step diagonally, putting yourself right where he's not expecting you, and manage to land a solid sucker punch on his masked face. Anathema is already moving. Before he knows what happened, his hands are twisted behind his back.

"Cool your jets now, dude," Anathema warns him. "I don't wanna do anything regrettable here."

She wasn't the type to follow through on that threat, of course, but the mere idea of having his wrists melted off was enough to settle Slipstream into a simmering sense of defeat. It all went just as you were hoping. You could tell that the recent practice you've been putting in with Anathema was paying off. And hey, she was a hell of a lot more friendly than Steel, that asshole. Maybe agreeing to spend more time with the Rangers (and thus Ortega...) wasn't such a bad idea after all.

You're just about finished snapping the handcuffs onto Slipstream's wrists when Charge bursts through the exit too. "Got him?"

"Look who finally decided to show up," you smirk under the mask. "Feeling winded yet, old woman?"

"Not this again," groans Ortega, making her way over to you. Anathema's as amused at your banter as ever, though she doesn't vocalize it.

"The police on their way?"

"Yeah, I notified them of our position already," Charge assures her. "Where'd the briefcase go?"

You jerk a thumb backwards, tilting your body. "Oh, it landed over..."

You don't see it anywhere.

"Over...?" Charge walks over to take a closer look, but she seems just as perplexed as you. "I don't see anything."

"What the hell? Anathema, you saw it drop right there, didn't you?"

"I _thought_ I did," she quirks her mouth to the side, mind alight with confusion. Slipstream, still quiescent, also seems to have no idea what was going on, and is just as confused as the rest of you. It wasn't a trick on his part, then, some obscure part of his plan that you didn't pick up on earlier. But then what?

That's when you finally realize you're picking up on _three_ different minds here, not just Anathema and Slipstream.

"Looking for something, my lovely Rangers?" a raspy, distinctly feminine voice taunts you. "Sorry, but this is mine now." All of a sudden, you're not alone here. Directly interposed between Charge and the rest of you, a shadowy, cloaked figure with a reflective convex mask stands completely unperturbed, suitcase in hand. What emotions you can discern from them are dominated by arrogant self-assurance. Somehow, even while standing directly in the midst of two Rangers and a vigilante, they still feel utterly secure in their own safety.

Charge moves in decisively to take a swing, but to no avail. The figure sidesteps the attack as if they knew it was coming, and, giving her the gentlest of nudges, pushes her forward towards you as they make more distance with their prize.

"Mierda," Charge curses quietly. "How did-?"

"That was rude of you," the figure chastises her, gesticulating with their free hand. "I really thought you were more of a playful sort than that."

"Well, can't blame me for trying," she smirks in response, taking up a fighting stance again. "You had your back turned to me. That seems rude, too."

"Oh. Forgive me, then," they bow mockingly.

What the hell was going on? From the impressions you were getting, this figure definitely _did_ know about Charge's attack right before it connected. It reminded you of yourself, almost. How you read people, how you dodged. That was the strange part, though - nothing you were picking up on suggested that this figure was a telepath, and even if they were, Charge should have been immune to that sort of trickery. You had enough sore spots from sparring with her to attest to that.

"Who even are you, anyways? Just some nobody?" you finally chime in, moving to position yourself across from Charge in case things escalate, already in a fighting stance of your own. Maybe their arrogance is something you can take advantage of.

"Just some nobody," they agree with an internal chuckle. "A nobody who is about to be a hell of a lot richer. My thanks for making Slipstream's hard work so much easier to steal."

"Hey, who the fuck do you think you are?! You can't do this to me!" the other villain protests. He really doesn't like being shown up like this.

"I can do whatever I want. I'm an eidolon. None of you can stop me."

As if to punctuate that, the figure (Eidolon?) vanishes right into thin air, leaving only a momentary, greyed out illusion before winking out of existence entirely with a burst of static. Even your telepathic focus seems to lose its grip on them, with the space they previously occupied now completely empty by all available reckoning. The air between everyone goes deathly silent for a few seconds.

"...What just happened?" Anathema eventually says.


	2. Chapter 2

The door swings open - nearly slams, actually - off to your right. Charge steps through in a huff. Seems like she's not having all that great a day, but her expression still lights up a bit when she sees you waiting for her, just like you promised. Now if only you could figure out _why_ the Marshal was so happy to see you every time...

"How'd it go?" you ask anyways, for politeness.

"Not as well as I was hoping," admits Charge, rubbing the back of her head. She continues down the corridor, and you follow, pushing down the feeling of strangeness. How casual it was, now. With them. You still have no idea why she's so cavalier about you being allowed in here, but so long as that's the case, you're not exactly _displeased_ to be taken seriously.

"Talk to me, Sparkles."

The nickname doesn't draw a complaint from her this time. "Steel doesn't much appreciate the lack of intel we have to go on. Three incidents since their debut, and we still can't figure out Eidolon's game."

You recall. Beyond just your discussions with the Rangers, the news was eating it all up, the new, mysterious villain called Eidolon. Their targets seemed random so far, and while money seemed to be a goal of theirs initially, their latest stunt had thrown you all off the scent. Provoking a hero in broad daylight... and for what? Just the spectacle of it?

"Well... you know what they say, the Rangers always get their man, right?" You sound unsure even to your own ears. Not necessarily because you doubt Marshal Charge's abilities or anyone else's, but you sure doubt your own ability to cheer her up.

"You're right," she chuckles for you anyways. "And there's nothing more to be done about it for now, anyways. Thank you for sticking around like I asked, Sidestep."

You pull your arms a little closer to you. "Yeah, well, uh, no prob?"

"That means you're free at the moment, doesn't it?"

"I... suppose so. Why?"

The two of you have reached the lounge by now, and Charge seems wholly uninterested in the fridge this time. Instead, she stops and turns to regard you, a smug, self confident look in her eyes. Oh boy, here it comes again.

"You wanna go for drinks?"

"I-I told you before, I don't _do_ 'public'," you huff, glad for the mask obscuring your expression.

"That's not a no, though," she points out. Always the optimist. You leave a suitably nervous energy visible in your body language as you contemplate how to turn her down this time without pushing her away entirely. After all, if she got the idea that you weren't worth trying to befriend at all... she'd stop, wouldn't she? And as much as you hated to admit it to yourself (dangerous, Serra, dangerous territory) you liked how much Ortega has been worming her way into your life.

"...We could get some drinks and relax _here_, I guess. As long as it's not out around people."

"I'll take it," she beams, stepping over to retrieve a pair of beers for you two. "Can't believe you're finally saying yes."

"Nothing unusual about a little after-work break." The shrug doesn't convince you and it certainly doesn't convince her. Charge hands the chilled beverage over.

"Come on, 'Step, admit it. You like hanging around me." God damn her expression is insufferably smug. You pull up the bottom of your mask, just enough to take a sip, and Charge shoots you a funny look. "Really?"

"What?"

"It's just us here. Steel already went home, so did everyone else."

"So what."

"So..." she sighs. "I want to know if you're ever going to open up to me. Even a little."

"I open up plenty. Anathema and I are great friends," you protest weakly.

"And she still doesn't know your face. Or your name."

The way she talks, it almost sounds like Charge is trying to figure out if you're worth it. That was horrible. Horrible of you, that you so scantly kept even someone like _her_ in your life, for all the complaining on your part, the refusal to be friends in any traditional, fun sense. Even if you were the one acting so distant, it didn't mean you hated having someone try to get close. It was nice having someone under the delusion that you mattered. That you were worth getting close to in the first place.

And it looks like if you don't start reciprocating a bit, you'll lose this, too.

"I guess I should start trusting you more," you muse, a reinforcement to yourself. Taking a moment to mentally scan around you confirms no one on their way to interrupt. Taking a deep breath bolsters your courage. You can do this. You can act like a person. _Be_ a person. Your hands reach up to slide your mask the rest of the way up, 'til it sits limp on one palm. Only now do you start looking outwards again and notice Charge's blatant surprise, drawing a smile to your lips. "Not expecting that, were ya, Sparkles?"

"Not really," she leans towards you slightly. And then meets your smile. "But I'm sure not about to complain. You're pretty cute."

You're not exactly sure what to call the noises of exasperated, flustered dismay that escape your throat in that moment, but boy do you regret taking that mask off now, if for no other reason than the fact that Charge is perfectly able to see your flushed cheeks this time.

"You- you- you can't do that!!"

"Do what?" her eyelashes flutter in mock innocence.

"C-call me cute! It's illegal!"

"Call you cute? Well, if you insist, cutie~"

Suppressing your reactions with a low growl, you decide to go on the offensive. "Oh yeah, well- well what about you, huh, you hot piece of ass?!" Fuck. That didn't come out right.

"'Hot piece of ass'," Charge mirrors, laughing riotously. "That's a new one. How long have you been saving that?"

"Never. Never, since- since never. Nope. Shut up. Fuck you, old woman."

Your angry grumbling only serves to make her laugh harder. Why did you ever have to start flirting with her.

"Mhm, I'm sure. And I'm sure all that flirting in the field was just out of nowhere, too," the Marshal winks.

You avert your gaze, mouth increasingly drooping into a frown. "Well, I sure didn't expect it to continue after this point."

"What?"

"When you... saw what I looked like."

"You're not ugly, Sidestep," she states in her confusion.

"Serra," you sigh, deciding to drop the sudden depressing note. "It's... Serra."

Ortega shifts her posture, her tone, and you get a sense of genuine gratefulness as she says, "Thank you for trusting me, Serra."

Christ, what direction were you pulling your life into now?


	3. Chapter 3

With odd reports from the (stolen) police scanner earlier, you were glad to be heading into the action yourself, like this. It didn't seem big enough to involve the Rangers yet, but you still had your reputation as a vigilante to uphold. Flirting with Charge the other day was a mistake. Spending so much time around the Rangers that you were beginning to be associated with them in the public eye, another mistake. You were just as capable all on your own. More capable! At least now you wouldn't have Charge's comments knocking you off balance constantly. Damn that woman.

First an alarm goes off. Pair of officers dispatched to check out the scene. No word from them since. Yes, not big enough for the Rangers, but definitely strange, and not something you wanted happening so close to your 'neighborhood', as it were. Certainly didn't help that _something_ was bothering you from the moment you slipped in the back, through an employee entrance. All the lights were off. Thankfully, with your lenses and telepathy, you weren't worried about dealing with someone in the dark. That wasn't what was bothering you, nudging into the back of your mind incessantly as you picked your way through silent, sterile hallways across rough carpet.

Really, it was almost like...

Like you were being followed.

Your reptile brain catches onto what's happening in the very next moment, and you lurch your body to the side in one sudden, panicked motion. Static crackles faintly behind you, heralding the fist that sails through the air right where your neck would have been.

"So it seems my lovely vigilante is the one to nibble at the bait," notes a raspy, familiar voice, the casual exterior hiding a small hint of confusion at being dodged. Eidolon. Just as you register your opponent's identity, the shadows shift to your left, and their figure moves to distance themself from you. Yes, that's definitely... _similar_ to what you remember? But something about their attire seems different, and you're not sure if it's just due to being seen in amped-light vision or not.

"So this is a trap. What did you do with the police officers?"

A chuckle. "What, straight to the point? Are you not a playful one either, my lovely vigilante?" Your only answer is to pull yourself into a fighting stance, and they sigh. "Just my luck. My boldness goes unappreciated."

"I definitely will give you that," you accede. "You're quite the bold... woman?"

"Close but no cigar, dearie."

Another burst of static interrupts you before you can respond, and Eidolon disappears right before your eyes. Christ, that was still unsettling to look at. Your arms lower again, but your mental guard stays high. Perhaps because you're not sure if you should call it disappearing anymore - unlike the first time, you almost feel a degree of motion in the act, as if you were able to follow their mind for just a split second afterwards. Indeed, that sense of being watched or followed still lingered. Eidolon's mind was nearby... heading deeper into the building? Keeping your footsteps light, you continue inwards.

The first floor appears to be empty of all human presence. You briefly thank the fact that Eidolon chose to do this so early in the morning, when no civilians would be involved. With no other options, you head up to the next floor, taking a set of broad stairs. Still deathly silent, other than your own muted breathing and the footsteps muffled by padding. Your instincts drive ice-cold spikes of paranoia through the nerves of your torso the entire time. It felt more like being haunted than being tailed by a person, and that unsettled you on several levels. Still, you press on.

After a few tense minutes scoping out the second floor, that fuzzy, ghostly presence retreats again... condenses...? and now a distinct, human mind flares into existence ahead of you, at the end of a long hallway. The static only barely reaches you. Somehow that earlier dread morphs into an entirely separate sort of fear as you stare them down. And as they begin walking towards you. Closer. Closer. Close enough to be heard, now. Close enough to really inspect their suit, take note of the distinct signs of quality barely visible. What was that, some sort of nanoweave? They weren't wearing anything like that the first time. The mask is a bit smaller, too, more compact. Perhaps Eidolon's first spoils went towards some upgrades.

"Why are you doing this?" you ask, and they draw to a halt. "First the robberies, then the public spectacle, now this. Why?" Your mind brushes up against theirs harshly. You want answers.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Smug. Confident. A little... aimless? Like they're not sure themself? But they don't think that matters. And they're not about to start spilling anything, or speak in any way except to tease you.

Fine. Guess you have to play hardball.

"What I'd _like_ is to take you in!"

The words come as a gruff warning mere moments before you charge, closing the rest of the distance and pressing the attack. Normally you would have rather baited your opponent into attacking you instead, capitalizing on their mistakes and their emotions, but it seemed like Eidolon wasn't the type to get provoked like that; if you kept chatting instead of doing anything, they seemed liable to get bored and vanish before letting slip anything useful to you. You don't want that. You want to figure them out, and yes, you sure as hell want to be the one to take them in.

The two of you quickly settle into a frustrating back-and-forth. Every move you make, they counter; every attempted reprisal, you see through; your tempo matches uncannily with Eidolon's, to the point that neither of you are able to land a single hit on the other. But outright victory isn't necessarily the only thing you're looking for in this exchange. Your mind continues to roam over theirs, taking in the obvious reality of how they fight. It really was far too familiar, or perhaps like looking in some sort of distorted mirror. Eidolon was not a telepath - and you were fairly confident they hadn't noticed your telepathic intrusions - yet they still managed, all the same, to perfectly predict how you were going to move right before you did so. How? What the hell was going on here?

They were given to their own fair share of perplexity, however. In fact, Eidolon's mind went through similar motions to your own, trying to piece together exactly how you were able to keep up with them like this. It didn't take long for them to begin suspecting telepathy. Shit. You couldn't afford to give away any more hints than this. Against your better judgment, you break away suddenly, backing up with arms raised, and Eidolon drops to their typical casual stance. Their mind alights with further suspicion, now that you're pulling back.

"Done already? That's no good. You," they let out a short, slightly winded breath, "are far too interesting, my lovely vigilante."

"Shut up. I won't let you-"

The rest of your sentence is cut off by a brief 'ping' against your awareness. Eidolon's head turns to the side at nearly the same time yours does. What is that? More minds. Hard. Focused. Determined. A little nervous. The police finally sent backup, then?

"Oh, seems like playtime is up. That would be... police backup, most likely." Curious. Eidolon really did have to reason their way to that conclusion. So they knew _something_ was coming, but not necessarily what? "For your sake, I'll go greet them. You'll find the other officers tied up a couple blocks from here. Ciao~"

"You- Wait, for my sake?"

Too late. In another burst of static, Eidolon slips away, their presence materializing almost instantly again. Shouts of surprise soon give way to combat and gunshots from the first floor, but judging by the panic, Eidolon isn't losing. You pivot and rush back down the stairs, knowing you're not quick enough to get there in time.

Christ, a new villain taking interest in you really isn't what your life needs right now.


End file.
